My Soul, Aimee
by Marauder Athene
Summary: Shortly after the Manhattan battle, Clint once had a nightmare and woke up with his knife clutched in his hand about to feverishly cut his heart out. Clint/OC


**This was stolen from a post on Tumblr from some people that don't know I exist. But that's ok. Just know that ONLY the waking up bit doesn't belong to me. And Aimee belongs to the love of my life. **

**Shortly after the Manhattan battle, Clint once had a nightmare and woke up with his knife clutched in his hand about to feverishly cut his heart out. ****(as a sidenote, this does NOT support the… normal FrostHawk lines of thinking)**

The thrill of battle swirled around him. Debris flying everywhere, his friends in battle around him, his love fighting by his side. Another arrow. Another enemy down in less than a second. Tony is flying upwards into the wormhole in his heroic act. Time rewinds to when he saw those speed-bike things go by overhead. There's a flash of a green cape and then all Clint can see is those evil eyes, that laugh, the hands in a death-grip around him as he ripped apart from the inside of his mind and body. Flashes of a blood-soaked bedroom and chains. Images of that man looming over him as he violates him in every way possible. The chains are unused really…. These eyes that Clint is looking out of belong to a man that seems to like the pain- that enjoys the violent and personal attentions of this murderer.

Then the man with the dark hair, gleaming pale body and elegant and torturous voice whispers in his ear- seemingly right into his mind. "You can end it, you know. You can make this pain stop. Would you like to know how?"

"Help! Anyone! Please! God, save me!" These are the only words his tortured soul can manage to scream. But it only seems to be in his head, not coming out of his mouth.

"I can tell you. I'm sure you'll welcome it with everything even before this you've been through."

"Aimee! Help me! God, love, take me away from here! Just find me!

The voice got even louder in his head, though he could see that mouth moving, it came from outside his mind and in. "You'll just have to kill yourself, Barton. But even then, you'll never be rid of me. You have heart, and I will find you even in the deepest pits of hell, and I will chain it deep inside you. There I placed myself with my power, and there I will stay till the end of your life- till the end of your thought- till the end of time itself." As he spoke, his voice resonated around Clint in his unfamiliar body. The green eyes of the other man seemed to swirl around him in a cloud of hate, malice and evil laughter.

_ 'So, that's it…'_ Clint thought._ 'It's my heart he wants. So, I'll just have to get rid of it.'_ He thought about the ways he could do it. Only the most obvious way seemed to make sense. So, the archer picked up a dagger from somewhere out in the void and was about to plunge it into his chest to carve out that strange, unimportant, beating this that betrayed him when another voice called out to him.

"Clint!" This voice was the most soothing feeling in the world. It was as if he had been out in the cold weather and this person brought him inside and tucked him under a warm blanket, kissed his freezing nose and then left to start making him some hot chocolate.

But he can't give into that. As wonderful an enticing as is was, that man with the burning green eyes was going to find him and take lock him and his soul inside a just-too-small box where he could never get out to find peace. No. He HAD to go through with this bloody act that would save his life. That would bring him back to reality for a few blissful seconds before drifting off to sleep.

He raised the knife again to do it and someone grabbed his arm._ 'It's him! No! He can't stop me! He just can't!'_ Clint grappled with him for a few seconds, but he seemed to be overpowering the archer._ 'No…. He can't win….'_

"Clint!" That voice again called to him and then he realized that it wasn't the man that was pulling the knife from him…

Clint's tear-soaked eyes opened and he stared wide-eyed at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. His wife, Aimee.

"Aims?" He sobbed out.

"Yes, Clint. I'm here. And you're lucky too, you stupid ass! You nearly killed yourself." It was then that he looked at his hand where his combat knife that had been under his pillow when he went to bed was. He looked back and forth between the knife and Aimee. He yelps a sob a few times in disbelief, drops the knife and hugs her tightly.

"Oh god, Aimee! Thank you…. Thank you…." He cries into her chest for what seems like hours of blissful safety and release. She just sat there rubbing his back while she waited for him to calm down. When he finally did, he was exhausted and drifted off into a dreamless sleep in his lovers arms.

Those days never seem to stop haunting him. Loki seemed to have done what he said in the dream: planted himself in Clint's soul and there he would stay till the end of his days. But Aimee was there. Aimee would save him. She had his back, just like she always has in the past when they were just partners. Aimee WAS his soul. How could Loki ever hope to take THAT away?

**Damn…. Who knew I could write something so…. Dark.**


End file.
